TLC Winchester Brothers
by obliviousworlds
Summary: A collection of one shots of our favorite brothers sick and suffering. (leave your request in a review or pm!)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Sam is sick with the flu and Dean is just trying to cool him down.**

**Sam/12 Dean/16**

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It's the pitiful moaning that has Dean blinking back to reality. The fevered cries of his brother only getting worse as the night goes on, and offering him very little hope that this is gonna ride out on it's own.

He fills the ice bucket full of cold water in the sink in the bathroom and sighs. It's three in the morning and he's just so exhausted while Sam is sick and dilirious from a fever that he's had the past few days. He'd be better during the day, but always get sicker in the night. Like always.

"D'n..." He hears his name being choked out and turns the water off and hurries back to Sam's side with the tiny ice bucket in hand. Sam's soaked with sweat and is tossing and turning on the bed, completely out of it.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean says softly and puts a hand on his chest, keeping him still. "Your a sick little boy, huh?" He soaks a rag in the freezing cold water, nodding when he feels his fingers go numb from the cold, before he goes to wiping at Sam's face.

This whole thing really could have been avoided if dad would have just fucking let Dean take him to the doctor a few days ago before he left on a hunt.

_"It's just the flu, Dean. He'll be fine with a little rest and some fluids." John had told his oldest right before he left._

_"Dad, he's sick. Really sick." Dean had told him, glancing down at Sam's shivering form laying on the bed farthest from the door in the nasty motel room they were going to be staying in for the next few days._

_"It's nothing you can't handle." And with that saying, John was out the door. Not even caring about how sick his youngest truly was._

Revenge will do that to a person.

Sam moans and turns his face away from the ice cold rag that Dean is wiping at his face with. Dean sighs and places a hand on his brother's head, further keeping it still as he continues to wipe at his face with the rag.

"I know you don't like it, but I gotta lower your temp." Dean talks softly in his ear, trying his best to calm him down.

But Sam isn't having any of it. He looks up at Dean with fever filled eyes and whines as his teeth chatter. Dean can't believe he's so so cold when he's sweating so much.

"I know baby boy, I know." He whispers and cards his fingers through Sam's hair.

"Dad...'m sorry..." Sam is saying a few minutes later, turning his face away from Dean. "I'll be good. I pr'mse."

Dean frowns and grabs the thermometer off the side table and sticks it in his brother's ear. The last time he checked it, it was just hitting 103; and that just wasn't good.

When it beeps this time, his eyes widen when it reads 103.5. He really needed to get Sam cooled off and fast...

Sam coughs hard and Dean jerks up and pulls Sam into a sitting position just as vomit spews out of his mouth, staining the front of himself and Dean's arm as Dean manages to shove a trashcan under his chin.

When he's for sure Sam is done he sets the trashcan back down on the floor and swallows hard. The smell of sick hitting him hard as Sam falls back against him coughing.,

"You are so lucky I love you kid." Dean whispers and places a kiss in Sam's hair. "So fucking lucky."

"'m sorry,sorrysorrysorry." Sam mumbles as he wraps his arms around his brother's waist. "I'll be good."

"Ssshhhh." Dean soothes and gathers him in his arms. "Let's go get you cleaned up, get some more medicine in you, and try and get some sleep." He says and carries Sam into the bathroom, even though he knows Sam is to out of it to understand him.

Dean runs a tepid bath before stripping Sam out of his soiled clothes and rinsing out his arms in the tub from where Sam got sick. A bath would surely have to do something or else he was gonna have to take Sam to the ER. Dad's orders be damned.

As soon as he sets Sam in the water, Sam screams and scrambles to get out of the what feels like to him freezing cold water. This was worse than the rag because it was hitting his whole body.

"Sam don't do this." Dean grunts and holds Sam down in the water. "I'm sorry, I know it feels cold but it really isn't. It's just the fever." He says and grabs a cup off the sink and goes about cleaning up his brother and trying to lower his fever.

Sam stops fighting after a few minutes. He looks up at Dean just as he's pouring water over his head and washing his hair. His eyes look clearer, but he still looks out of it.

"Sam? You with me?" Dean asks and shields Sam's eyes as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. He smiles at him when he's finished and Sam gives him a little smile back.

"Feel bad." Sam manages to say and coughs hard into his hand.

Dean scoffs and nods. "I bet. Stay here, I'm gonna get you some clean clothes." He says and rushes out of the bathroom and goes to find Sam some clean pajamas. When he comes back, Sam's sinking down into the tub and Dean has to grab him before he falls under.

"No, no sleep yet, Sammy." He says and helps him out of the tub and helps him get dressed. He grabs the towel after he's finished and rubs it through Sam's hair for a minute and then smiling when Sam's head sways back and forth from the movement.

"Haven't done this in a while, huh?" He says and laughs a bit. Sam smiles back at him and falls back against him, totally exhausted.

"Come on sicky. In bed you go." Dean says and guides his brother back to the other clean bed. He palms his forehead before shaking out a few tylenol and handing them over with a glass of water. As soon as Sam swallows them, he takes the thermometer and sticks it back in his ear and waits for it to beep.

101.

Dean sighs of relief. Looks like he won't be making any ER visits tonight. He pushes Sam back down on the bed and covers him up with the blanket. He's about to get up when Sam latches onto his wrist with a death grip.

"Lay down with me." He whispers and gives Dean the puppy dog look.

And Dean just can't deny that look no matter how hard he tries.

"Alright, Sammy." He says and smiles before climbing under the covers with him and holding him close. It doesn't take long for Sam to snuggle up against him and fall asleep.

Dean doesn't sleep much after that. He dozes on and off and continues to check on Sam just to make sure his fever doesn't spike again. In the early morning at about seven a.m. is when it breaks, and Dean finally gets some piece of mind.

"Your gonna kill me," He says and buries his face in Sam's hair. "One of these days, Sam."

And Sam wakes up about an hour later, confused and achy, but better then how he felt last night. "Dean, get the fuck off of me!" He says and pushes against him. "Your like a furnace and I'm not cold anymore!"

Dean laughs and just holds him even tighter. "Oh well, Sam. This is what you get for nearly giving your big brother a heart attack." He says and squeezes him in a hug.

Sam's still too weak to fight, so he just relaxes back against him. "Thanks for taking care of me." He says softly and buries his face in Dean's chest.

"My job, Sammy." Dean says and smiles when he feels Sam's breathing even back out into sleep. "It's my job."

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_Fin._

_k send your requests in! Any sick! Winchester brother prompts are being taken. (Sam, Dean, even Adam.) any age. but no wincest pls._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: Sam's got the chicken pox and Dean's at school. Guess who's taking care of the sick three year old? Caring!Daddy!John :) **

**Requested by: Sammygirl1963**

**Enjoy !**

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"Daddy, it_ itches._"

John let's out a sigh before a small smile appears on his face. "Yes, Sammy. I know. You've told me a million times today."

It's rather sad, actually. The sight of Sam's three year old self sitting on the bed in the small home John's rented out for a few days is heartbreaking enough for the single father. And Sam isn't making it any easier with his pouting and whining.

John doesn't complain though. He remembers doing the same thing when he had the chicken pox, and listening to Dean when he caught the illness last year. He knows how miserable Sam is feeling.

Although it's much better then it was a few hours ago, when Sam had a freak out attack and thought he was going to actually turn _into _a chicken. John couldn't hold in the laughter at that one, especially when Sammy glared at him for it and John had to assure him that he would be fine within a week and that he _wouldn't _ turn into a chicken.

"Sam, stop scratching." John repeats for the millionth time while rummaging through the first aid kit.

Sam's hands drop back down on the bed and his lower lip sticks out. "But _daddy_ it-"

"Itches. I know." John finishes for him and grabs the nail clippers out of the kit. "Come here, baby boy." He grabs his three year old and sets him in his lap before going about trimming the tiny fingernails. He's not gonna risk Sam making the spots worse.

It's still a mystery to him how Sam even caught the chicken pox. He wasn't in school yet and he never went to daycare. They did move around a lot, and germs _were_ everywhere.

"That should help." He says when he's finished trimming up his baby's nails. He places a kiss in his son's messy brown hair and holds him close for a minute.

Sam let's out an impatient sigh and starts squirming. "It not helping. It still itches, daddy!"

John wants to laugh at the serious look that is on his baby's face. "Trimming your nails isn't gonna help that, I know." He says and grabs the pink bottle of calamine lotion out of the kit.

Sam's eyes widen. "Dean says pink is for girls." He says and pushes his father's hand away. "I's not a girl."

This time John does laugh a little. "It'll stop the itching, though." He says and holds the bottle back in Sam's face.

Sam thinks for a moment before he starts squirming again. "Otay." He says and looks up at his dad with sad eyes. He uses those eyes to get his dad and Dean to do whatever he wants, but John isn't gonna budge this time.

"It'll be okay, Sammy." John soothes as he rubs the lotion over the spots that scatter his youngest's fevered body. He frowns when he sees that they've seem to have gotten worse in the past few hours. No wonder Sam is being so fussy.

"Dean had the chicken pox about a year ago, Sammy." John says and slides Sam's shirt up and over his head so he can finish applying the lotion. "And daddy had him put on some of this stuff."

This makes Sam giggle. "Funny daddy," He says and looks up at his father. "When Dean come home?"

John glances down at his watch. "Few hours. So soon, Sam." He tells him and hugs him again. He knows if he would have let him, Dean would have stayed home from school today in order to take care of his brother, but he wouldn't budge on that, either.

"Otay." Sam says and sticks his thumb in his mouth. John wants to scold him gently for it, considering what they all went through trying to pry Sam from his pacifier a year ago, but he let's it slide this time. Sammy's sick, he can let it go for now.

"You hungry?" John asks and places him back down on the bed and grabs his shirt and slides it back over the toddler's body. He places a hand on Sam's forehead and takes note of the fever. It's not real bad so that's a good sign.

Sam shakes his head and whines before falling over on the bed. "I's feel bad, daddy." He says and coughs hard into his hand.

John grabs the empty sippy cup off the table next to the bed and nods. "I know. You still itchy?"

Sam thinks for a moment before shaking his head.

"Good." John says and gets up off of the bed. "I'll be back, I'm gonna get you some more juice."

But the whining stops him before he can do anything. His heart breaks as Sammy's eyes fill with tears and they fall over his eyes, spilling down his cheeks.

"Want you hold me," He says and reaches his arms out, letting sobs take the control of his body.

John smiles sadly and scoops the baby up off the bed and holds him close. "My poor sick boy." He says softly and let's Sam bury his face in his shoulder. He continues his walk into the kitchen with a sick toddler and manages to fill the sippy cup with some juice one handed.

"Here." He hands the cup over and Sam takes a few sips out of it. The sobs have died down a bit, but the tears are still falling from his eyes.

"Come on, Sammy. Let's go take a nap." John says and carries Sam back into the bedroom. He lays down on the bed and let's Sam curl up on his chest before he's kissing the toddler's head. Sam sticks his thumb in his mouth and sighs, breathing already starting to even out into much needed sleep.

"Wuv you, daddy." He says softly, before his eyes flutter close and he's snoring softly against John's chest.

John grins and runs a hand down Sam's back. There's one thing he never gets tired of, and that's hearing his boys tell him he loves him. It makes him feel like he's doing something right.

"I love you too, Sammy." John whispers and closes his own eyes. "I love you too."

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_Fin :) _


	3. Chapter 3

_**Summary: Sam gets strep throat the first time Dean watches him by himself. Dean panics and John has to tell him that he can't protect Sam from everything.**_

_**Dean/8 Sam/4**_

_**Requested by: JudyAnn**_

_**Hope this is what you were wanting :) **_

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The first time John leaves Dean alone with Sam for a day, Sam gets really sick. Dean wants to think it's a cold and that he can handle it. Except Sam cries all day and Dean doesn't think the white patches on the back of Sam's throat indicate that this is just a cold.

Dean feels panic rise inside him when he notices how flushed Sam's cheeks look and he rushes back to take his temperature again. The tiny thermometer still reads 101.2, no matter how many cold cloths Dean lays on him.

"Hush, Sammy." He says softly and pulls Sam in his arms. The four year old still cries, but he seems to do better when Dean is holding him.

"Please be okay." Dean whispers and drags out more children's tylenol from the first aid kit. He's been repeating this process all day, but it doesn't seem to be working and Sam isn't exactly cooperating with him when he's asked to drink the liquid.

Dean feels himself rock back and fourth with Sam still in his arms trying to lull him back to sleep. He needs his dad, he's never dealt with this by himself before and he can feel the panic settling inside him all over again.

"I don't know what to do." He says to no one and feels tears stream down his face. "Dad, please come home..."

Dean gets his wish half an hour later. John unlocks the door to the room and his eyes widen when he finds both of his son's crying their eyes out. He rushes to the side of the bed and tries asking Dean what's wrong.

"Sam...sick...I didn't know... what to do..." Dean manages to get out through his own sobbing before pushing Sam over towards his dad. John places him in his lap and takes a look inside his mouth and winces at how red it is. No wonder the kid is crying.

"Aw Sam." He mumbles when he notices the white patches on the back of his throat. "Doctor time."

An hour later, John is walking back in the room with a now sleeping Sam in his arms and a still upset eight year old following behind him. The doctor had said strep throat and sent them home with some antibiotics for Sam to take after already giving him a dose in the office and said he should be better in a few days.

That brought no comfort for Dean. He was still upset when John stopped at walmart to go get some popsicles and soup for Sam's throat. Guilt still over riding him and not going anywhere anytime soon, even when John kept insisting that this wasn't his fault.

"I was supposed to take care of him." Was his reply, followed by more tears and a crack in his own dad's heart.

John lays Sam down on the bed farthest from the door and tucks him in, smiling a little when Sam decides to wake up.

"Hey, Sammy." He says and puts a hand on his head. "How are you feeling?"

Sam sniffles and rubs his eyes with his fists. "Want De." He says and looks up at his father.

John glances over and notices Dean sitting on the other bed with his face in his hands and sighs. He really needed to comfort his oldest through this.

"Come here, Dean." John tries, but Dean doesn't move. He rolls his eyes before picking Dean up off the bed and returning to Sam.

"De!" Sam shouts, and a smile spreads across his face despite the pain in his throat.

John sits back down on the bed and situates Dean in his lap. "Dean, he's alright." He says and puts a hand back on Sam's head. "You can't protect him from everything."

Dean nods and holds his arms out and Sam happily climbs into them. "It was my first time looking after Sammy all by myself... I just wanted you to know that I could do it." He says and looks up at his father.

John smiles and places a kiss on his oldest's forhead. "I know you can do it, Dean. Sam just got a little sicker than what's normal and needed a doctor. No big deal." He tells him and hands Sam a popsicle to help his throat.

"It's a big deal to me." Dean says and climbs off his father's lap and onto the bed with Sam still in his arms.

John smiles again before looking down at Sam. "Sammy, did Dean take care of you today?" He asks his four year old in a serious tone.

Sam nods his head and wraps his arms around his brother's neck, still licking on his popsicle.

"Did he give you medicine?" John asks next.

Sam's face scrunches up and he nods again. "De give me nassy stuffs to drink."

John laughs a little at that before looking back at his oldest. "I'm proud of you, Dean. You did good, even if you don't think you did." He ruffles Dean's hair and smiles again.

Dean beams up at him and holds Sam closer to his body, relief flooding through him when he feels how much cooler his brother is.

"De take care of Sammy." Sam says and smiles up at him.

Dean smiles back down at him and nods. "Yeah Sammy. I'll always take care of you."

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fin.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Summary: Sam gets food poisoning-, Dean takes care of him._**

**_Ages: Sam/8 & Dean/12_**

**_Requested by: goldfishie1_**

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"Oh that's disgusting."

Sam heaves and throws up all over again in the toilet at Dean's comment.

"I'm _so _sorry." Sam says and throws his brother a glare, which, is kind of funny coming from Sam's eight year old face.

Dean cringes again as Sam's face goes back into the toilet, and the heaves start up all over again. He's been standing in the doorway for the past ten minutes listening to Sam throw up over and over again. He's surprised there's even anything left in his brother's stomach.

"Guess those chicken fingers are the cause, huh?" Dean guesses with a shrug. The three of them had eaten in a diner no less than an hour ago and Sam was fine before he ate. Which could only mean one thing.

Food Poisoning.

"_Deeeean." _Sam moans and rests his head on the lid, "Stop talking about food, I can't handle this." He adds and wraps an arm around his stomach and tries to breathe normal.

Dean gives him a sad look before sighing. His dad isn't here, he left as soon as he booked a room for the three of them and had said he'd be back in a few days. So now it just leaves Dean alone to take care of his brother.

Like always.

"You done?" Dean asks when Sam doesn't move for a minute.

Sam waits a moment before slowly nodding and looking back up at him.

"Back to bed then." Dean moves to help his brother up, but frowns at all the heat coming off of him. "My god your burning up!" He comments and takes on most of Sam's weight when he falls against him.

"Dean I c-can't." Sam says softly and slides back down to the floor and curls up.

Dean sighs again. He knows Sam is weak and probably dehydrated from all the throwing up, but he's not just gonna let him sleep on the bathroom floor.

"Alright." He mumbles and pulls Sam into his arms and carries him over to one of the beds and lays him down.

"Dean!" Sam says, wide eyed and puts his arms around his stomach again.

Dean scrambles for the trashcan by the bed and shoves it in Sam's face. "Geez, Sam how can there possible be anything left in your stomach?" He asks and rubs his brother's back. He frowns when all Sam does is dry heave into the trashcan.

That's not a good sign.

Dean wraps his arms around Sam when he falls back against him breathing hard. He should really go out and get some juice and stuff for Sam, but he doesn't wanna leave him alone when he's so weak.

"D-Dean...make it s-stop." Sam moans and puts his face in his brother's chest.

Dean rests his cheek on the top of Sam's head before giving him a tight hug. "Sam, I can go and get you some stuff to make you feel better, but Your gonna have to stay here alone for a few minutes, okay?"

Sam nods against him. "Okay." His voice is sad, but Sam isn't even producing any tears, and that just worries Dean even more.

"Lay down and rest." Dean says softly and pushes Sam down on the bed. He covers him up with a blanket and watches as Sam curls up under them, chills racking his body.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, alright?" Dean says and puts a hand on Sam's forehead, feeling all the heat coming off of it.

"Okay." Sam says again and his eyes flutter closed as Dean is walking out the door.

He thanks god his dad left a little money behind, and the fact that the store in this town isn't far from the motel. He stocks up on gatorade and chicken noodle soup just in case Sam feels better later.

He walks back to the motel room, groceries in hand, and unlocks the door and hurries inside. Sam's still laying in bed, but he's wide awake and staring at Dean as he walks over towards him.

"How are you doing?" Dean asks and lets his eyes narrow down toward the trashcan.

"I'm _sick._" Sam points out and puts his hands down towards his aching stomach. "I'm never eating again."

Dean rolls his eyes and gets a bottle of juice out of the bag. "Can't have that. I got you some soup for later, and juice for now." He says and unscrews the top and hands it out towards his brother.

Sam's face scrunches but he takes the bottle and sits up while Dean rearranges pillows behind him so he can lay back against them while he drinks.

"Your lucky I love you." Dean says with a smile and helps Sam sit back. "I wouldn't do this for anybody else."

Sam smiles back up at him before taking a small sip of gatorade. "How much do I have to drink? I'm not even sure this is gonna stay down."

Dean flops back down on the bed and looks at his brother. "More than that and if you keep throwing up, I'm gonna have to take you to the hospital so they can get some fluids in you." He says and pushes the bottle back towards Sam's mouth. "So just take it slow."

Sam nods and continues taking small sips, and after a few minutes, a quarter of the bottle is gone.

"Alright, that's enough for now. Good job." Dean says and sets the bottle on the night stand before setting his hand back on his brother's forehead. "Your stomach still hurt?"

"Not as bad." Sam answers and leans into Dean's touch when his hand slides down to his cheek.

"I think you should try and sleep." Dean says with a nod. "It might help." He adds, and helps Sam lay back down.

Sam blinks up at him sleepy. "Will you lay down with me, Dean?" He asks and gives him the sad puppy dog eyes he knows neither his dad or Dean can ever say no to.

Dean gives him a smile and nods. "How can I say no to that?" He crawls under the covers and let's Sam curl up against him, his head resting under his chin.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam says after a few minutes. He's half asleep, Dean can tell by the change of his voice.

"Yeah?" Dean says and glances down.

"Thanks." Sam whispers and curls up even tighter against Dean's side. "For taking care of me and everything."

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes. "Go to sleep, Sam."

And Sam's out after another minute, soft even breathing filling up the motel room, lulling Dean asleep soon after.

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_Hope this was okay! :)_


End file.
